Turn It Up
by Scribbler
Summary: Zack danced with the same wild abandon he treated all of life. Aerith could do no less. He wanted to go out, so she went out. He wanted to dance, so she danced. Too bad she was a lousy dancer. Zack/Aerith fluff fic.


**Disclaimer****:** Rhythmically not mine.

**A/N****:** Originally written for the ficlet collection _Poetry of the Air_. The idea is that you put your playlist on random/shuffle and then write a ficlet related to or inspired by each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. I went beyond the remit with this one, though, and ended up extending it into a fic of its own. The song that inspired this fic is _Turn It Up _by Pixie Lott.

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_**Turn It Up**_

© Scribbler, July/August 2010.

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Zack took Aerith to a dance party once, and only once. It wasn't a proper rave, but it was outside her comfort zone. She went along with it because he had indulged her so many times – building her cart, helping her sell flowers, playing around on a kiddy swing-set and slide like they were both five years old – and she wanted to show their relationship wasn't all one-sided.

It was a combination concert and general get-together. A stage had been set up at one end of an old factory, and the acoustics were excellent. Several acts got up throughout the evening and into the night. The slums were a depressing place to live, and because of that, when people partied, they partied _hard_. An air of escape and desperation lurked beneath the delight as people sang, drank and danced, but mostly what Aerith sensed was … well, sweat and a lot of yelling.

She tried hard. She _did_. She didn't say a word against the press of bodies all around her or the heavy bass thumping through the soles of her feet to the top of her head. It made her brain feel like it was rattling against the side of her skull. She just smiled and moved the way the other women around her were moving. Well, some of them. Some were doing things and moving their bodies in ways she could never hope to imitate, nor really wanted to. There was showing willing and then there was going too far. If Zack expected her to do things like _that_ in public, he wasn't the man she thought he was.

Zack danced with the same wild abandon he treated all of life. He danced like he was part of the music and it was part of him. She had noticed that when he was walking or jogging too. A lot of Zack was a creature of instinct and emotion; he felt more than he thought about things, and when he did think he was motivated by his feelings. That wasn't to say he was simple, but he took sincerity to another level. When he dodged around the swing-set trying to catch her in a game of tag, he threw himself into it like it was the most important thing he had ever done, or would ever do. Likewise when he knocked nails into the cart to affix the wheels, or when he carefully turned over soil to aerate it under her patient tutelage. Zack committed to everything he did a hundred percent.

She could do no less. He wanted to go out, so she went out. She even dressed up in her best dress, though it seemed at turns under- and over-dressy in this crowd. She thought she was passably faking enjoyment, until Zack drew her to one side, where the music wasn't so ear-bleedingly loud.

"You hate this, don't you?" He didn't say it resentfully, as a guy would who was sick of his date being awkward.

She shook her head. "It's nice!" Maybe not the best word to describe the writhing bodies and screaming, but she was a terrible liar, so the simpler the wording, the better chance he would believe her.

"Liar," he smiled, taking her hand. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

"We don't have to –" Aerith broke off as a girl with a blue Mohawk bumped into her. "Sorry."

"What?" The girl wore shades, which was always a fashion statement indoors, but even more below the Plate. Her lower lip was pierced with silver rings, from which dangled a variety of charms intended for bracelets. Aerith spotted a teddy bear, a bell and a pentagram winking in the strobe lights. Brown eyes appeared over the top of the shades, squinting at her. Evidently she passed muster, because the girl said, "Bangin' party, yeah?"

"Um, yeah. Banging."

She nodded at the stage. "You like the sound?"

"The music is nice."

"That's my boyfriend up there. Well, ex, but we're an off-and-on thing, yeah? And he's really good tonight, so we'll probably be back on when he gets down."

Aerith had no idea how to respond to this. She felt bewildered, as if she had stepped out of reality for a while and into a parallel universe inhabited by aliens and monsters. The rules were almost the same as in her world, but at the same time everything was skewed, so she didn't have any knowledge of what to do or how to act.

Zack stepped between them. "Excuse us."

The girl looked him up and down. "_You_ are most certainly excused." She ran her tongue over the pentagram. "Wanna dance?"

"Maybe later."

She pouted. "Aw, but maybe the offer won't be open later. Why don't you ditch Miss Peaches n' Cream here and hang with me for a while?"

"Like I said, maybe later."

"Your loss, sweetheart."

Zack rolled his eyes, but not so the girl could see. Aerith was close enough to read his lips. "I'll live." He guided her away from the girl, shielding her from the worst of the crush with his own body.

"We could have stayed," she said when they had passed through the exit and left the worst of the volume behind them. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"Meh." He shrugged.

"'Meh'?" She frowned. "What's 'meh'?"

"It's what it sounds like."

"It sounds like you burped."

He laughed. "C'mon, I'm hungry. All that dancing really worked up an appetite."

This sector wasn't renowned for its eateries. What wasn't closed for the evening served things even Zack's strong stomach balked against. They ended up walking along the street nursing bags of boiled sweets that were probably only sixty-five percent actual sugar. The vendor who sold them was old and jaded, but smiled and tipped his hat at them even though Zack wasn't in his SOLDIER uniform.

"You kids take care on your way home."

"We will, sir," Aerith replied.

"Lots of crazies out at this time of night."

"We'll be careful," Zack promised. There was probably nobody out there he couldn't handle, sword or no sword.

When they were halfway along the street Aerith looked up at Zack, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying one stripy candy. "Thank you, but we didn't have to leave," she said again.

He shrugged. Again, it wasn't the least bit bitter.

"I spoiled your evening."

"Will you stop?" He looked down at her. His words were a little indistinct. The candy was too big and kept clicking against his teeth as he talked. "You didn't spoil anything. It was an experiment that didn't work out. End of story. It's nobody's fault."

"But –"

"Look, I wasn't bothered about the party, okay? I don't care where we go or what we do. I just like being with you. I don't get to spend as much time with you as I'd like since I became First Class and I'd rather do stuff you like than force you to do stuff you hate in the little time we get together. Where's the fun in that?"

She stared at him. Then she linked her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Hey, watch it!" he cried out. "You'll make me drop my candy!"

"You can have mine," she murmured, totally happy despite her headache and the tinnitus ringing in her ears.

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_**Fin.**_

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